Keys (To the World)
by DarkestWolfx
Summary: He essentially held the keys to the world, but never had it felt like such a daunting, pressuring task. And that all came from holding one. Part 1 to 'Little Kingdom.' Spoilers for S2E19 'Clean Sweep' (04/11/17).


Just a little John focused piece, because I've missed writing for my favourite spaceman. Also, something shorter from me this week, because I think this piece works better without too much. Believe me, the longer version wasn't coming to mind, because I don't think it's needed. There's not much dialogue either – sorry – I've returned to true words are all meaning style.

I hope the layout isn't too confusing either.

Enjoy.

* * *

John Tracy of International Rescue, pilot of Thunderbird Five, the man who could save or end the world with the press of a button. The man who no one knew watched them from above, kept them safe by locking the relevant doors, opening the ones which were necessary.

 _'_ _They say the burden always sits strongest on the shoulders of the man who holds the keys out of reach, as opposed to the one who fights to keep them there.'_

And it was only he who held them.

* * *

 _He essentially held the keys to the world._

Every day, on Thunderbird Five, safe high up above the world, he knew. He knew he held the keys to it. Just as EOS could, he could. If he was so inclined, he could throw the world into chaos.

He could stop International Rescue.

He could create disasters.

He could break every code, every computer.

It wasn't what he _wanted_ to do; it wasn't something he ever _would_ do. But some, some who were that way inclined – if they could have _all this_ – they would. He could think of a name clearly without much challenge of thought.

He could have power over everything. Take control over everything. Own everything. Be everywhere.

The keys to the world, were his privilege.

* * *

The keys to the world, were his to guard.

His to protect, to keep safe.

His to use as and when needed.

His to use responsibly and with reason.

The keys to the world were a great and deadly thing.

He'd always thought about it. What it meant. What it could mean. He thought about it when EOS took over Thunderbird Five, so long ago now in memory. He thought about it then. What it really meant, what he really held in his hands.

Every day, on Thunderbird Five, safe high up above the world, he knew. He knew what he had to keep his eyes on. What he couldn't afford to lose, to mess up, to let descend into chaos.

 _He essentially held the keys to the world._

* * *

It was his life. It was what he did day in, day out. Every night and every day. A never-ending cycle.

It was his life.

It was something he'd grown used to.

He could access anything; the keys were his.

This… This was different. This wasn't what he knew _at all,_ though it was so like what he knew it should have been. It shouldn't have been as hard as it was to keep hold of.

This day, in the high atmosphere, closer to the world he viewed, he knew. He knew it shouldn't be any different, but with gravity, it seemed there was nothing he could hold onto. Chaos.

 _He essentially held the keys to the world, but never had it felt like such a daunting, pressuring task._

* * *

It was the thought which crippled him.

It was the image which terrorised him.

The piece of plastic flying from his hand, high, into the air, travelling further and further from his grasp.

 _"_ _No!"_

It was the race against time, the uncertainty, _reaching,_ the lack of knowing whether it could be done… in time.

It was the word that would haunt his dreams, if he slept tonight.

It was the thought that would hold him back from ever physically holding one again.

* * *

And that all came from holding _one_.

One key.

One key that was the mission.

That was the solution.

That was the saving grace.

That was necessary.

That wasn't his.

That was so much more than it should be.

That was a piece of cheap, computerised plastic.

That was _Scott's_ life…

... _His responsibility to protect._

 _He essentially held the keys to the world, but never had it felt like such a daunting, pressuring task. And that all came from holding one._

* * *

Every day, he worked under pressure.

He lived, breathed and exhausted it.

Every day, he held the most pressurising task.

And never once had it really bothered him.

It was just _his life_.

Every day, on Thunderbird Five, safe high up above the world, he knew. He knew he held the keys to it. Just as EOS could, he could. He knew what he had to keep his eyes on. He _knew_ what _mattered._

That _one_ , he _never_ wanted to _have_ to _hold,_ _again_.


End file.
